


your light

by decalcomonia



Category: TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Choi Yeonjun-Centric, Drabble, Getting Together, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mindless Fluff, minor poly soogyukai, soft n sweet n full of feelings, taejun turn my mind into mush, yeonkai roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:27:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27803026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decalcomonia/pseuds/decalcomonia
Summary: their foreheads knock together and taehyun beams and his words are so, so genuine; for yeonjun, being with taehyun is the gift that keeps on giving. it’s all worth it, always is.
Relationships: Choi Beomgyu/Choi Soobin, Choi Beomgyu/Choi Soobin/Huening Kai, Choi Beomgyu/Huening Kai, Choi Soobin/Huening Kai, Choi Yeonjun/Kang Taehyun, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 78





	your light

**Author's Note:**

> i've always enjoyed that plot point/dynamic of “a cheesy love story that is simultaneously everything and nothing like the movies.” i have been unusually sappy lately, so please excuse how poorly-conveyed my sentiments are in these three-thousand plus words of pure brain mush. i hope you enjoy this drabble of my favorite two boys <3

the overhead lighting is harsh, a bright yellow hue that tips more towards the orange end of the spectrum. the bulbs flicker occasionally, as if they were wheezing, straining to stay alight. the store door is almost completely clear in the center, made of glass and lightweight aluminium, and yeonjun could pull open the handle with the strength of his pinky finger alone. 

it’s almost ten o’clock at night, and the bell chimes when he steps onto the concrete floors. he makes a beeline for the coffee machine set up right next to the door, which hums as he turns it on, slowly coming to life. there aren’t any customers inside, nor is there anyone stationed up front, but yeonjun hears faint, telltale rustling from the back room, so he makes himself a cup of coffee and leans back against the countertop, sipping lightly on his drink. 

anticipation courses through his veins as he waits, and maybe it’s a little unjustified, but that’s what love will do to you, yeonjun figures. he knows that their plans likely involve a late dinner of leftovers and maybe an episode or two of the newest tv series they had just started, the one they both made a pact to not watch unless they were together. it’s just a regular friday night, but the thought of seeing him still makes yeonjun excited, and it’s nice to have something to look forward to, to find reason in every single day. 

choi yeonjun’s epic love story, in short, starts off a little something like this: they first meet here, at this convenience store. it’s both cliche and unconventional all at once, and yeonjun loves it. it’s what they are, a defining characteristic of sorts.

yeonjun finds himself there by accident the first time. he takes a different route home from work one day, wanting to walk along a few new streets. he had been in town for seventeen months at this point, but there still were many areas unfamiliar to him, ones he wanted to explore. the houses lining the road have variable styles of architecture, the sidewalk comes and goes, and mud from a patch of wet grass that yeonjun had walked on earlier coats the soles of his boots, but he likes the change of scenery.

yeonjun expands on his own ever-growing world that night, tacking on new bits of knowledge to his bank of experiences. and then huening kai is calling, as he does so often. kai asks yeonjun to pick up a carton of eggs, sheepishly explaining how he had dropped the last one that was left in their fridge, and yeonjun can hear beomgyu’s poorly concealed snickers in the background of the call. the sigh that yeonjun emits is fond and kai thanks him with that unfaltering, cute lilt to his voice when he eventually agrees.

to yeonjun’s luck, there is a corner store stationed on practically every road in town. he finds one immediately after exiting the residential district, only two blocks away from his own apartment complex. a neon sign on its exterior reads “open late” in red and blue letters, but half of it had previously dimmed, leaving only the first word still lit up. 

the store’s interior is empty, but there are a few adults sitting outside that yeonjun passes by on his way in, sitting on empty barrels and smoking cigars. he shuts the door behind him, careful to not have it slam closed and make a ruckus. 

yeonjun briefly pauses after entering through the doorway, immediately locking eyes with the boy standing behind the cash register. he looks a little bit younger than yeonjun, and his palms are flat on the counter, his shoulders hunched over something. he gives yeonjun a small smile in acknowledgement and fixes his gaze back down at whatever is in front of him.

yeonjun silently finds his way to the refrigerator housing egg cartons, picking up a few more essentials— one package of crackers, an energy drink can, three ice cream bars— on the way. he walks up to the front and unloads his haul on the counter, where the boy is hurriedly pushing his calculus textbook out of the way so that he can ring yeonjun up. 

his hair is blonde, skin honey glazed, and his white top shifts, exposing a sliver of his abdomen, as he moves. he is undeniably one of the most attractive people that yeonjun has ever seen.

something compels yeonjun to speak, to slip in a little joke halfway through the transaction. afterwards, he immediately flushes pink; he doesn’t know if small talk could really be considered anyone’s strong suit. but it’s surprisingly not awkward, and the boy at the register laughs and thanks him when yeonjun wishes him well with his studies. his voice is melodic and sweet, and it gives yeonjun a little more confidence.

there’s something captivating about him, and yeonjun is sure that his gaze noticeably lingers on the boy, but they just gently bid each other goodnight, and it’s nice. yeonjun’s heart feels light on the way out; it swells in a way that he hadn’t felt in a while. it’s invigorating, almost.

if yeonjun takes that new route home from work the next evening as well, just to make a stop into that store, then that’s only for him to know. he picks up a package of ramen that he and kai had been running low on, and the boy is up front, tapping on this phone this time around. yeonjun can spot recognition in the boy’s eyes when he sees yeonjun waiting on line to pay for his food, and they exchange the same pleasantries before yeonjun departs. 

there’s a myth that it takes twenty one days to form a new habit. yeonjun forgets what the actual time frame is, but he’s always been a little more dedicated than most, especially when he happens to take interest in something. so he starts asking kai a little more frequently if he wants anything from the store, and rolls his eyes when beomgyu or soobin or _both_ of them on certain nights chime in with their snack requests too, but returns home thirty minutes later without fail, the same paper bag full of frozen desserts and chips clutched in his hand. 

it’s just the right amount of purposeful, what he’s doing. yeonjun has to go the tiniest bit out of his way but he thinks it’s worth it to get to see the blonde, who compliments what yeonjun is wearing that day. it has him smiling all the way home, and huening kai even raises an eyebrow when he stands up to help yeonjun with the bag, taking the drinks out of his hands. the smile developing on kai’s face is knowing and a little teasing, but he doesn’t press. 

they’ve always given each other their space, anything that the other needs. so yeonjun doesn’t comment on the fact that kai’s lips are evidently bitten, swollen too, not even when he passes by beomgyu, who is sitting on their couch, or when soobin emerges from the guest bathroom minutes later. yeonjun figures that they’ll tell him when they’re ready. (and they do, when they sit him around the dining table a few weeks later. yeonjun looks at his three best friends, the first ones he had made after moving to college, and pulls them all into a bear hug. he couldn’t be happier for them.) 

yeonjun eventually learns the boy’s name on his fourth visit— it’s taehyun, and yeonjun tries the name on his tongue when walking through the park, the one bordering the retail strip. _tae-hyun._ he likes it, likes everything about him.

yeonjun chuckles at that, reminds himself that he doesn’t really know taehyun. but he wants to, and maybe that counts for something. he likes everything that he’s seen so far. 

yeonjun lets it slip to huening kai one day, saying taehyun’s name aloud after getting back from a run to the store that had ended with a conversation of decent-length, in which taehyun had promised to check out an album that yeonjun had mentioned in passing. lo and behold, kai, beomgyu and taehyun are all in the same year and vaguely familiar with one another. kai winks at yeonjun and wishes him luck, and yeonjun thinks of the powder blue, cropped sweater and pale pink beanie that taehyun had been wearing today, and thinks, boy will he need it. he’s always had a weakness for wide-eyed, pretty boys. 

taehyun is evidently some sort of perfect; he’s kind to the elderly who come in seeking jugs of milk and boxes of garbage bags, helping them carry their purchases out to their cars. he slips a quarter of his own into the register when a young, teenage boy is short on cash for his snacks, and asks a mother who comes in with a baby carrier strapped to her chest about her daughter with blinding enthusiasm.

yeonjun is so utterly, royally fucked. because taehyun, he quickly realizes, is a boy of fairy tales and those movies with picturesque, happy endings. he is good beyond belief, far too good for yeonjun. but taehyun never makes yeonjun feel anything but special, always attentive and caring and so utterly thoughtful that his responses leave yeonjun a little weak in the knees. 

the tipping point comes when small extras start finding their way into yeonjun’s hauls. an extra popsicle or two, the kind of candy he had picked up just last week. kai tears open the bag and passes these goodies to yeonjun with a cheeky grin, and yeonjun barely bats at an eye as soobin steals a snack right out of his hands when he passes through the kitchen, planting a kiss on kai’s forehead in the process, who blushes lightly at the gesture, red dancing across his cheeks.

“you wouldn’t want to miss your chance,” kai had told yeonjun over a week ago, encouraging him to make a move. he was sipping on his bottle of grape juice, fingers intertwined with beomgyu’s own. it’s so domestic, the way the three of them are all splayed out and tangled on the couch, that it makes parts of yeonjun ache that he didn’t even know could do such a thing. soobin eventually returns from the kitchen, passing beomgyu a napkin for his ice cream, and settles himself on the floor in between beomgyu’s legs. 

“you can do it, hyung,” soobin comments, slotting himself right into the conversation like he had never even left. they know each other too well. “anyone would be lucky to have you, really.”

choi yeonjun was unlikely to be considered much of a coward by anyone’s standards, but apprehension can still seep its way under his skin on occasion, wrapping around him like a thick, weighty blanket. it’s warm and almost suffocating at times, but he thinks that taehyun is worth it, worth all the fear and uncertainty in the world.

he gets a text from taehyun later that night, who sends yeonjun a congratulatory message about his high mark on a recent presentation and well wishes for yeonjun’s exam the following day all in one. it’s complete with a photo of taehyun’s family cat, hobak, for good luck and yeonjun thinks that yeah, taehyun is definitely worth a little risk.

from there, it’s like the dam has broken. taehyun congratulates yeonjun on his performance the next time he sees him in person, and yeonjun slips in an invitation to bring him out for ice cream.

“shouldn’t i be the one treating you if we’re celebrating your grade?” taehyun giggles. his eyes are bright, tender.

“or, it could be a date, if you’d be into that,” yeonjun offers up. his palms are clammy and shoved in the back pockets of his jeans as he rocks back on his heels, and he likes the way that taehyun’s attention remains locked on him. he sparkles under the intensity of taehyun’s solid, steady gaze.

“i’d like that,” taehyun’s plump, glossy lips stretch into a smile when he speaks. he bites his bottom lip instinctively and yeonjun finds it a little unfair, how charming taehyun is no matter what he does. him and his strong cheekbones and high nose bridge; he looks like he’s been sculpted by the gods or some equivalent heavenly being. he’s a dream.

taehyun is witty and sharp-tongued and teeming with charisma, skillful and deliberate with the things that he says and does. yeonjun basks in this feeling, because taehyun woos and flusters yeonjun without even trying, and it’s utterly thrilling, falling for someone like this. 

suddenly, yeonjun’s visits to the store tend to last a little longer. he joins taehyun behind the counter on friday evenings, when taehyun gets too many leftovers from the tiny diner joint next door and can’t possibly finish them all on his own, so he offers yeonjun some. yeonjun perches himself on a semi-wobbly stool that taehyun nudges with the sole of his converse sneaker and they eat in a mix of comfortable silence and quiet conversation until yeonjun offhandedly references his past as a competitive dancer and taehyun is all but begging for old videos, voice eager. 

yeonjun is sure that if beomgyu caught wind of this request, the clips in question would immediately find their way into taehyun’s hands, so he agrees to text him some. when yeonjun does, taehyun sounds so incredibly giddy in the voice notes that he sends after watching them that yeonjun feels breathless receiving them. as his roommate, kai is the only one who is subject to the sight of yeonjun curled up in their hanging chair at eleven o’clock, listening to the audio with a dopey smile on his face.

_“god, hyung— those were so cool. you look beautiful in all of them. do you have any more? i’d love to see them, if you do. thanks for sharing them with me; they were pretty— really pretty. i know it’s late, so i won’t keep you up much longer. good night, yeonjun hyung. i’ll see you soon.”_

on weekend afternoons, they sit on street corners or parking lot railings after taehyun ends his early-day shift and watch as their knees bump, hands tangling together all fun and playful. taehyun tastes like the boxed strawberry milk kept at the back of the store, the kind yeonjun had helped him shelve a few nights prior when he had come to buy some coffee grounds. all it had taken was a gentle _help me?_ from the younger blonde and yeonjun was crouching down, unloading one of the boxes littering the cramped store floor. 

taehyun laughs so brazenly on that particular day, and it’s the most gorgeous thing that yeonjun has ever witnessed. he’s amazed by how someone can have so much life in them. the wonders of the world are no longer finite in number; taehyun adds a new one every day, every single moment that they are together.

yeonjun aches to know taehyun and all of his intricacies, and is so, so grateful that taehyun trusts him enough to let him in. yeonjun makes a concerted effort to do the same, because taehyun is naturally lovely and more than earnest when it comes to what he desires. he’s younger than yeonjun but already feels more experienced, more mature, and yeonjun finds this remarkable and terrifying all at once.

yeonjun had never been in love before, not before taehyun. he can count the people he had somewhat seriously dated up to that point on one hand; there was a girl at sixteen and a boy at eighteen and another boy at nineteen, but none of those ever went anywhere, ever went far enough to be called love. none of those had beomgyu barging into his room at midnight, staging what he calls an intervention when they dip into the territory where yeonjun’s worries begin to plague him.

“taehyun really likes you,” beomgyu reminds him, slipping underneath the covers and wrapping an arm around his best friend’s waist. it’s a comforting embrace. “you know that, right?”

yeonjun shuts his eyes and breathes; thinks about how he’s wanted, wanted by taehyun. “yeah, i do.”

and yeonjun means it; he really does. it’s his first relationship that comes to this point though, where the initial appeal doesn’t fade, and he wants to do it right. he wonders if he’s a little too old for this, too old to agonize over whether or not saying three little words would be premature. soobin nabs a stick from the stash of bubble gum in yeonjun’s dresser, closing the top drawer, before he eyes the fox plushie that kai had precariously placed at the foot of yeonjun’s bed, and reminds yeonjun that none of them quite know how to properly grow up. 

at the end of the day, he guesses that it’s all just one big cycle of trial and error. and so, yeonjun decides to try.

there’s pink glitter on taehyun’s neck and star stickers under his eyes when yeonjun tells him. he’s fresh out of a student-run event at their college, and he’s glowing when yeonjun picks him up. he tells yeonjun about the foster cat that he met that day, and the joy laced in his voice shines amber bright. it makes yeonjun’s worries drip away, all slow and easy. they share a cup of shaved ice and yeonjun can taste the syrup on taehyun’s tongue when he kisses him next to the flagpole outside of his dorm, and tells taehyun that he loves him. their foreheads knock together and taehyun beams and his words are so, so genuine; for yeonjun, being with taehyun is the gift that keeps on giving. it’s all worth it, always is.

push and pull, give and take. they go for late night walks on the beach and feed each other by the spoonful on occasion and even take yoga classes together, when yeonjun wakes up early enough for taehyun to drag him down the street. nothing about their world is perfect like it is in the fairy tales, and they surely aren’t either, but yeonjun wants to stay through it all: through occasional slip-ups and moments of brashness, when he and taehyun feel high and low and everything in between. they make do.

maybe that’s yeonjun’s fairy tale ending: that promise of forever becoming something he desires. because he had never known that it was possible to love someone this much, that this is what love felt like. taehyun opens up new worlds and then some for yeonjun.

“i want to spend all of my days with you,” yeonjun tells him quietly one day. they’re standing on a pedestrian overpass, watching the late-night traffic zoom by on their walk home. 

yeonjun’s statement could mean a lot of things beyond its surface value, and they both know it; summer was steadily approaching, meaning that leases would soon be up for renewal. maybe they’d choose to move in together, finally getting taehyun out of the dorms, and they could buy him that snake that he’d be wanting. 

there’s a dip in the bridge, a curve where the concrete falls beneath the other slab. taehyun nudges yeonjun until he’s flat-footed on the slant, the three inches that yeonjun has on taehyun immediately disappearing because of their positions. yeonjun laughs at that; taehyun has always had him right under his finger, putty in his hands. taehyun gets yeonjun right where he wants him, and yeonjun can’t think of a better place to be.

“i’m glad we have a lot of time left, then,” taehyun affirms, eyes soft around the edges. and when he pulls yeonjun close, presses his lips against yeonjun’s, it still feels electric. it’s the fizz of ice cold cherry soda and the tang of lemon popsicles and the sugar encased in vanilla ice cream. yeonjun melts into it.

**Author's Note:**

> ah, thank you so much for reading. stay safe and healthy everyone! i'm rooting for you all. take care <3
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/decalcomoniaa)
> 
> oh! i made a curious cat too recently haha. i've never used it but if anyone would like to ask me anything, it now exists. [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/decalcomonia)


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